Rules
by WhereIvegone
Summary: Angelina Love/Maryse femslash. The progression of an odd relationship. If you don't like femslash, then spare yourself and simply don't read this, that makes sense right?


Title: Rules

Rating: T for lots of talk of sex… and some cursing, I think

Pairing: Angelina Love/Maryse

Disclaimer: I don't own them… don't sue me! Please :-/

Summary: The progression of an odd relationship...

**A/N: Another one I wasn't going to post which I wrote ages ago, ironically before Angelina's release from TNA (you'll see why it's ironic once you read the fic)… And sorry for the lack of fic/lack of updating/lack of answering your messages, I've been totally swamped busy guys… but here's a kinda cute fic between two ppl I never thought I'd ever write cute fic for…**

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There are rules. There are always rules. Usually, Angelina sets them and if she doesn't, well, then she breaks them.

When Maryse suggests they set some ground rules about this—whatever _this_ is—Angelina's first reaction is to peevishly—more like vehemently—disagree. She doesn't like rules, she never has, never will, and she definitely won't start adhering to them now just because she's having fantastic, completely mind blowing sex with the enemy. Besides, when did fantastic, mind blowing sex need rules anyway?

Maryse is relentless though and many, _many_ orgasms later, Angelina is too tired to keep up her opposition. In fact, she thinks that maybe that should be a rule—_no fucking the opposition out of her_.

She does finally relent though and over the next few weeks they come up with a set of rules, _five_ rules, to be specific, and Angelina quickly realizes that maybe these are the only five rules she's ever been given that she actually has no intentions of breaking.

**Rule number 1 **

"No staying the night,"

Angelina's fingers twitch at the apex of a creamy thigh, her eyes lingering upwards until she's meeting the French-Canadian's half lidded gaze.

"What?"

"A rule." Maryse explains, arching her hips a little so that Angelina will get the hint to resume what she's doing. "No staying the night." she reiterates, her accent so thick that Angelina has to resist the urge to ask her to repeat herself just to be obnoxious.

"No staying the night?" Angelina repeats it slowly, like she's not quite sure what to make of the words.

"I don't do relationships."

Angelina arches an eyebrow, her fingers frustratingly immobile because she _has_ to say this—_wants_ Maryse to hear this.

"Well, neither do I."

Maryse arches an impeccable eyebrow this time (like she's appraising a small petulant child who has just revealed the extent of his/her immaturity) and the moment she does it, Angelina is overwhelmed with the urge to either slap her or move her fingers that centimeter higher just to wipe that condescending smirk off of her face.

She does neither.

"Wellllll…." Maryse draws the word out, her tone almost as pompous as her smirk. "Good,"

Angelina closes her eyes for a quick moment, blows her bangs out of her face and thinks that maybe fantastic, mind blowing sex isn't even worth this torture but then Maryse's sharp nails are digging into her hips and her fingers finally trek that tiny distance into warm slickness and before she knows it, Maryse is writhing, sweating and panting things in French—she really should have paid more attention in French class—right into the shell of her ear and fuck it, if it isn't the hottest thing Angelina has ever experienced then, well… quite frankly she obviously wouldn't subject herself to prolonged periods of time with the arrogant French-Canadian woman and she obviously wouldn't subject herself to a set of stupid rules.

**Rule Number Two**

"We can date other people,"

It's Angelina who implements this rule because quite frankly, she has noticed Christy Hemme gaze lingering a little longer than necessary lately and she wants to be able to explore those possibilities if they ever arise.

Not that she does relationships… because she's made it clear that she doesn't; she just likes to be able to explore her options.

"Ok…" Maryse nods her head slowly, and Angelina's actually quite pleased to have caught her off guard but then Maryse actually has the nerve to chuckle—Angelina can feel the puffs of sporadic breath against the curve of her neck—and whisper (her voice husky but nevertheless haughty against the shell of Angelina's ear), "Have fun with that."

And there's that urge to hit her again. Instead, Angelina fists her fingers in blonde hair and pulls Maryse until their lips are interlocked effectively muting whatever else Maryse has to say about the matter.

**Rule Number Three**

This one Angelina likes to call the "unsaid, unwritten rule," because with their arrangement, it's just kind of instinctively agreed to.

It's simple really.

No jealousy.

Angelina Love is not stupid enough to believe that it's _love_—or anything even remotely similar to the connotations of that word—that serve as the basis of a relationship; it's jealousy. Once jealousy is involved, it's a relationship, and Angelina doesn't do relationships thus Maryse can do whatever/_whomever_ she wants and Angelina won't think twice about it, it's as simple as that!

**Rule Number Four**

"Nobody can know,"

It's Angelina who implements this rule—why she's implementing all these rules, she's not quite sure.

"Well!!" Maryse draws the word out for almost as long as she rolls her eyes. "Duhhhhh!" She has an infuriating know-it-all expression that Angelina wants to smack right off. "I like my job!"

"Well that's good because Old Vincent there owns your ass,"

Maryse actually looks faintly scandalized for a quick moment but her lips quickly form a smirk.

"Yeah?" She asks, her fingers skirting down Angelina's sides. "And who owns your ass?" she asks, fingernails grazing said ass.

"Nobody." Angelina smirks, her lips curling almost maliciously. "My company actually _needs_ me!" she says tauntingly, and Maryse makes sure it's the last coherent thing she actually says before she slips out of the hotel room later that night, still flushed and panting heavily as she makes her way to her car.

**Rule Number Five**

"You can't fall in love with me,"

Angelina's pretty sure it's by the grace of some kind of higher being that stops her from choking on her drink. She's not sure whether it's the shades of "A Walk To Remember" or if it's just so fucking unbelievable that Maryse thinks that anybody could fall in love with her and all her rude, obnoxious glory but something about that statement is conceited even beyond Angelina's standards.

"And why would I do that?"

Maryse drops her towel—and God, there's still droplets of water clinging to her skin like they don't quite want to leave the sanctuary of smooth flesh—and Angelina almost has a '_that's why' _moment but then Maryse's is talking again in that amused, arrogant tone that Angelina just can't stand and she quickly realizes that even if she could fall in love (which she can't, because she's Angelina freakin' Love and falling in love is retarded and soo not for people who can get anyone they want in their bed on any given night) that it definitely wouldn't be with Maryse .

"Because I'm me!" Maryse ends her mini-rant which Angelina most likely would have found hilarious had she been listening to it which she hadn't been, because really, falling in love with Maryse? That's laughable.

"Yes!" Angelina nods her agreement. Mayrse is Maryse and nobody could ever be Maryse. "And I'm me," She says slowly.

"Glad we got that sorted," Maryse says, her tone huskily low as Angelina runs her fingertips between the valley of her breasts (because honestly there was absolutely nothing in world arrogant enough for her to say that could keep Angelina's hands from finding her body any longer).

"Glad we did." Angelina agrees, quickly occupying her mouth with anything except talking and quite happy when she reduces Maryse's talking to nothing but moans and whimpers of pleasure.

**Rule Number One: No Staying the Night**

"I don't think I can move,"

It's merely a statement of fact because Angelina's limbs feel heavy and tingly like she has some sort of static energy running alongside her veins.

She thinks for a moment that Maryse doesn't hear her, or is at least not listening to her (that's more likely) but then she feels a shift as the mattress dips beneath their shared weight and hears a sleepily muttered "Then _don't_,"

And she doesn't, move that is. She also doesn't think about how much more cordial Maryse is when she's been fucked senseless, and she definitely doesn't make any grand revelations about shifting relationship dynamics especially not when Maryse shifts closer until Angelina can feel the soft burst of her each and every breath against her jaw. Angelina just snuggles closer to the warmth and rationalizes that its only one rule out of five and she won't break the other four.

**Rules Number Two and Three: Dating Other People Is Ok, and Jealousy is Absolutely Not**

"You're more dressed up than usual,"

Statement of fact, because Angelina is an observant person and Maryse is truly dressed to the nines which is definitely saying something because this is Maryse and she doesn't exactly ever dress down.

"I have a date." Maryse explains.

"A date?"

"With Mike."

"Mike?" Angelina asks, although she feels like a strange cross between parrot and a shell shocked fish.

"The Miz," Maryse clarifies.

"Yeah, I figured that's who you meant by Mike. I just thought you know, that you had higher standards than The Miz,"

"He's a nice guy,"

Angelina opens her mouth to say something, anything, and maybe she really is a shell shocked fish, but no words seem to be leaving her lips.

"I, sinc-" she stutters. "Since when do you date nice guys?" She finally manages to asks although what she really means is '_is our arrangement suddenly not good enough for you?_' Maryse is looking at her strangely and she thinks for a second that maybe she said what she really meant instead of saying what she thought she had said.

"Are you jealous?"

"What?? No!" Angelina quickly replies. "Why would I be jealous?" She doesn't want an answer to that question though because God knows what a Maryse answer to that question could sound like. "Look, you came here for a reason, right?" she quickly moves on.

"Don't I always?"

"Then why are we talking?"

Angelina kisses her before she can even process the question and when she fucks the French-Canadian, hard—more enthused than she ever has— against the wall, leaving marks against pale flesh exposed by a plunging neckline, she keeps telling herself it's not because she's jealous.

**Rule Number Four: Nobody can find out. **

"I want to meet Mike,"

Maryse rolls her eyes like she, herself, isn't the queen of saying _the_ most ridiculous things on Earth.

"I told you. We're only friends,"

"I know." Angelina says. Maryse has made it clear—very clear—that her relationship with the Miz is not going anywhere substantial, but Maryse still talks about him, a lot and Angelina's kind of wondering what the hype is all about.

Maryse purses her lips together, like she's thinking, and Angelina wants to throw out a joke about how Maryse should _think_ more often because it's kind of cute when she actually does it, but she holds her tongue and waits for Maryse to speak again.

"Well…" Maryse draws the word out like she usually does. "You can meet Mike if I can meet Silk,"

"Velvet," Angelina corrects although she's pretty sure it was an intentional blunder.

"Right, right," Maryse smirks, affirming Angelina's suspicion. "Velvet. If I can meet her, you can meet Mike."

Angelina shrugs.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Yeah. When do you want to meet her?"

"Seriously?" Maryse asks. Her expression is so shocked that Angelina really can't suppress her laughter.

"Seriously." She affirms.

"Fine. I want to meet her then,"

"Next week?"

"Yeah. You bring Velvet, I'll bring Mike,"

"Alright," Angelina agrees and for some reason, it doesn't bother her that they're actually _planning_ to break one of the—if not the—most important rule(s).

Angelina was never great at following rules anyway and she supposes the same could be said for Maryse.

**Rule Number five: Falling in love is not an option!**

"What are we doing here?"

Maryse's fingers stop their decent down Angelina's stomach.

"Sex." Maryse answers naturally, her eyes narrowing almost skeptically, like she's not quite sure what Angelina is trying to ask.

"Obviously," Angelina states, sitting up and almost regretfully nudging Maryse's hands off of her so she can think because she needs to think. "But we've been doing this for a while,"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want to know what this is to you," Angelina answers, and it strikes her almost too late that she sounds like a stubborn scorned girlfriend.

"Its--" Maryse shakes her heads, trailing off. "I like it,"

"You like sex,"

It's not a question but Maryse feels the need to answer it.

"Yeah." It's akin to a _duhh_ and she realizes a moment too late—when Angelina breaks eye contact (it's the first time Maryse has ever remembered Angelina doing it so abruptly)—that maybe that didn't convey exactly what she was trying to say. She tries again though, lifting Angelina's hands in her own—testing the weight, the feel, because they've never just held hands before unless it was some kind of act of dominance during sex. She brings one of Angelina's hands to her lips and maybe it's the French in her (the French are hopeless romantics after all) that makes her prone to these melodramatic gestures, but whatever it is, she feels the need to express it, so she lays tiny kisses on each knuckle until Angelina is looking at her (_really_ looking at her, like it's the first time she's seen her). "But, I like sex with you," Maryse says, by way of explanation and for a second she thinks she may just have to put her foot in her mouth because if what she's saying isn't clear now, she's not sure it'll ever be.

Angelina seems to get her meaning though and nods almost sternly.

"But you don't do relationships," she rationalizes.

"Neither do you," Mayrse counters.

Angelina smiles, resting their palms together.

"So, we can not do relationships _together_,"

"I think it's what we've been doing," Maryse says. "But I think we should set some rules," Angelina looks skeptical and Maryse almost laughs. "One rule," Maryse amends.

"And what's that?"

"We have lots and lots of sex,"

Angelina grins, rolling Maryse over quickly until she's lying on the mattress.

Angelina's pretty sure that's one rule she'll never ever break.

The End

**Review please =D**


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